Bonfire Heart
by The Knife In Your Side
Summary: That blank face, that cold stare he saw in Nico. All that bottled up emotion, so scared to let it loose in case they scare the people around them, drive them away. Leo was surprised Nico hadn't cracked yet, but then again, with the amount Nico had gone through he guess he was getting good at pretending he wasn't falling apart…


"_Days like these lead to,_

_Nights like this lead to,_

_Love like ours._

_You light the spark in my bonfire heart._

_People like us, we don't_

_Need that much, just someone that starts,_

_Starts the spark in our bonfire hearts._

_This world is getting colder._

_Strangers passing by,_

_No one offers you a shoulder._

_No one looks you in the eye._

_But I've been looking at you,_

_For a long, long time,_

_Just trying to break through,_

_Trying to make you mine._

_Everybody wants a flame,_

_They don't want to get burnt_

_Well, today is our turn."_

–'_Bonfire Heart' by James Blunt_

* * *

The children of Hephaestus kept things running. In a world of destroyers, they were the ones who patched up after the wreckage, who built and created and held together what little bit and pieces they could. They were resourceful, salvagers who couldn't leave behind ever the slightest piece of scrap metal, knowing full well that little piece was needed somewhere in the grand machine, that the little piece mattered… so it's a wonder how Leo Valdez found it so difficult in the world outside of his little underground shop with his tools and clanking metal machines. The world itself was like a grand clanking machine – so why was it so hard?

He wondered sometimes, why couldn't he wield a sword as well as he could weld one? He was demi-god! What happened to these battle reflexes and natural talent that was meant to come so easily? Had he inhaled all too much oil fluid fumes as a child? Even Piper, who'd admitted herself she'd never been the best fighter, could beat Leo with nothing but her small enchanted knife.

And that's how he felt now, as he lay winded in the dirt. He could hear faint laughter from those who'd seen him fall a countless number of times since training started around an hour ago.

Leo let out a groan, "Dude, I said go easy,"

"I _was_," his friend Percy grinned, holding out a hand to help him up.

The smaller Hispanic boy in frustration pretended the hand was not outstretched, pulling himself up of the ground and dusting himself off with whatever smidge of dignity he had left.

Percy frowned slightly, "We can stop, we've been at it for a while and it's a warm day,"

His friend was right of course, the sun blared down of them as if Apollo was in a particularly bad mood that day and even Leo, who could literally set himself on fire with sheer willpower, was feeling the blistering heat, but alas, barely haven regained his breathe again the elfish boy gritted his teeth, "I need the practise,"

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he resumed position, feeling sloppy against Percy's perfect form, the weight of the celestial bronze sword feeling wrong in his tight grip.

Then with sudden ferocity, Percy pounced and Leo threw up the sword with a small squeak, barely dodging the attack, which seemed too effortless for the elder boy. Percy had told him to use his smaller size to his advantage, which sounded like pretty wise advice, if only he knew how to do that.

It didn't take long before Leo was back in the dust pile. This time he let Percy help him up.

"We're done for the day," Percy spoke, voice harder. Commanding without even noticing. A proper warrior, a proper demi-god. Ugh.

Leo said nothing and sighed. Percy was wasting his time; Leo will always useless in a fight. Frank had tried to teach him archery, but he could barely make it to the target, and so when the arrow lit with a moment of frustrated anger it landed in a lovely patch of summer's dry grass… proving once and for all that the endeavour was fruitless. Even Annabeth tried him on with some other weapons, thinking he could make good use of a knife given his size. She was wrong.

How did it ever get to the point where talking to a mechanical bronze dragon was easier for Leo than having a conversation with his fellow campers?

As he limped off towards armoury with the little dignity he had left, he spied a familiar shadow crouched in the shade, a good distance away from the others. Leo expected to see a smirking face, snickering along with all the other's who'd witnessed his catastrophe of a training session, but instead the other boys face was blank and expressionless, black eyes heavy with all the things he'd seen and face deathly pale as those he could conjure.

But the thing is… if he wanted anybody to laugh at him, it'd be the son of Hades… because Leo is a son of Hephaestus, and Nico was no different than any of the machinery scattered on his workbench. Broken with pieces missing, lost with time and rusted with all they'd endured. Worn with use. Worn away.

And that was what he was good for; he brought things back from disarray. He could create and repair almost anything, with a skill level even he didn't understand the limits of.

But Leo couldn't fix Nico.

And truly… that was what mattered most to him.

Humans… no matter how he tried he couldn't understand them. They weren't like his machines. They broke in different ways; strange ways… broke in ways Leo could patch up with his handy wrench and some quick rewiring. People _felt_ things; they could laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time. Feel grief and pain so strong it never left, not really. It was always there, inside, like a little shadow latched to their hearts whispering dark memories in their ears. They trapped themselves in cages Leo couldn't touch, could dismantle with his tools.

And that blank face, that cold stare he saw in Nico. All that bottled up emotion, so scared to let it loose in case they scare the people around them, drive them away. Leo was surprised Nico hadn't cracked yet, but then again, with the amount Nico had gone through he guess he was getting good at pretending he wasn't falling apart… breaking…

Cold and reclusive and emotionless, right there under that tree and yet so far away…

Back in his workshop Leo sighed, clutching the edge of the bench until his knuckles turned white thinking of Nico and that sword he'd left sitting in the armoury. Clean and polished, like it'd barely been used.

Well, he guessed, it hadn't – Leo couldn't even have tried to break Percy's guard.

It was late when he finally decided that he couldn't do it anymore, couldn't sit tinkering away at nothing important with all these thoughts in his head.

With a fierce determination, he threw on his army jacket and headed straight for where he left that celestial bronze sword and without even a glance towards the training field; he headed directly into the forest. He wanted to be alone.

He _needed_ to be.

When he believed he was far enough away, he looking down at the sword one last time and saw his reflection flare back, only it didn't look like usual giddy, smiling Leo… the boy looked back with fiery eyes and a pained expression, like a stranger only it felt so familiar. As if he saw his heart in his reflection.

But without any further thoughts, Leo swung and the blade came clashing to the trunk of a tree. It hadn't even occurred to him that it could have been a nymph, so thankfully it wasn't – he was too far gone to care anyway.

Time seemed to bend around him, with each crazed swing that sent splinters flying. He wielded the sword like a hammer, unleashing all of his pent up rage with each crude movement. His eyes stung and ears rang, barely even noticing his heaving chocked breaths.

_I'm meant to fix things._

Another swing sent a shock wave through his muscles.

_I'm meant to help people._

Leo's arms ached, but he continued.

_What kind of repair boy can't even fix the one he loves most?_

He felt tears beginning to burn down his cheeks, and that's when he realised he was just as broken as Nico di Angelo, just as full of pain and ready to combust at any moment. Hiding it all so cleverly behind his welding goggles, bright smile and lame jokes. His own cage.

The sword had become wedged in the wood which had lit into flames with impact, and no matter how he struggled he couldn't wedge it free, yet he clung to the hilt as if it were his lifeline falling so his knees in messy sobs.

"I'll never be good for anything," he chocked a whisper, feeling the flames lick at his skin. What would usually burn all others became the Gods sick joke, the exact fire that took his mother couldn't take him either – instead it became his protection.

"That's not true," the voice was so quiet Leo almost missed it, and maybe if it'd been any voice but that particular one, Leo could have ignored it.

The flames died down, but his hands still clung to the sword as if his joints had locked, and he heard the crunching of leave as somebody approached him from behind.

Nico knelt beside him, lifting up his chin to face him, "Hey,"

"I-I can't, I'm n-not strong e-enough… I'm not a f-fighter," Leo stuttered and felt the other boys cool fingers clasp his hands, feeling the coolness of his skin as Nico slowly unwrapped his fingers from the still red-hot blade.

Leo collapsed, suddenly feeling the effect of the hours of slamming into that tree in his aching arms. Nico held him up and began to speak, "You're right, you're not a fighter," Leo felt his heart clench, "You're something better,"

The curly haired boy looked curiously up at the son of Hades, who still held his unburnt hands, as if he were some sort of strange beautiful creature.

"These hands weren't meant to destroy, don't you see? They weren't created so you could shed blood… these hands are for creation, innovation, invention. You were given these hands to bring new things to the world, not take them away…" Nico trailed off.

Leo was wide awake now, being held Nico on the forest floor, so close to him he could feel his breathe of his face. It was unlike anything he ever imagined.

"Thank you for fixing me," breathed Leo who broke the grasp to reach up and push some of Nico choppy bangs out of his face. He could see the other boy smiling as he let his fingers linger at his cheek, before Leo leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against the others.

There was a split-second where Nico froze in place before he wrapped his arms around Leos neck and pushed him onto his back to deepen the kiss with a fierceness neither had anticipated.

They weren't sure how long it lasted before the two of them fell to either side, breathless and staring up at the night sky.

Because one kiss couldn't fix Nico, he'd walk away from that night with his sadness and his sorrow instinct… but even if he couldn't feel it right away, Leo had lit a spark in that darkness and despair.

A spark that with time, he promised he'd turn into a wildfire.


End file.
